In more ways than one, I’m getting bit by the reality bug as the products of so many of 2007’s big decisions become permanent.
Decision One: Agree with husband that yes, moving to the Yukon would be so cool!
Is that adjective biting me in the butt now. It is only December, or, the second month of Yukon winter, and it is -40 degrees Celsius. Summer here was beautiful. We climbed mountains, sun tanned, walked everywhere, soaked up intense amounts of vitamin D cuz the sun didn’t set till 12 at night. Summer, I have heard, lasts only those two months I experienced here, July and August. Then it was back into the 8-10 month cold stretch. This is where I find myself. Call me seasonally affective, but it’s all a little depressing to be freezing cold all the time, missing my riverside runs, lamenting my super-dry skin (I have to moisturize like 6 times a day!) and with Christmas coming, I kind of just want to be at home.
Granted, it’ll be nice to have my first married Christmas here on my own, but Christmas is all about family and traditions and visits, right? Not this year. I’m discovering Bailey’s in my hot chocolate and numerous comforters on my bed make the Yukon winter blues go away.
Decision Two: Buying a puppy, because they are, like, so cute and fun!
Yes, but they also whine, poop, pee, destroy, chase kitten, eat clothing, gnaw hands and need attention when I really want to be painting my toenails.
I love Skylar the dog. She is cute and has the epitomous puppy-dog eyes and when she does snuggle up and sleep on my lap, it is the most relaxing feeling ever. (Especially when Goober the kitten joins in the sleeping snuggling mix). But man, I am realizing that taking care of a new puppy is a significant amount of work! I sleep less, I worry about my home’s destruction, I am gong through urine and poo remover/cleanser in alarming and likely carcinogenic amounts.
To both of these things I know comes the answer, “I’ll get better.” And I know that’s true. But a carpe diem-ing twentysomething sometimes needs more than assurances things’ll get better later. Like, I would prefer to have things get better now, so I can go back to being carefree. Or is that what being a grownup is?